


Not a Chance, Princess

by londonstyles



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellarke, Dabbles, F/M, The 100 - Freeform, pre ep 2x16
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 14:01:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3531965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/londonstyles/pseuds/londonstyles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke knew that whatever happened once she found her way into Mount Weather wasn’t going to be good, but this wasn’t quite what she had expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not a Chance, Princess

**Author's Note:**

> Lord have mercy on me, the last thing I needed to do is write something while so busy with school. But this came to me suddenly and I really wanted to write it. It's my first time writing 100 fic so please stick with me as I figure this out. :)

Clarke knew that whatever happened once she found her way into Mount Weather wasn’t going to be good, but this wasn’t quite what she had expected. 

The halls had been empty, and she knew from the inside information from Maya that everyone had evacuate to the fifth floor because of the diversion of power from the generator. Clarke didn’t waste any time as she ran through the halls, her shallow breath and quick footsteps echoing around her. All she could think about was saving her people. She hadn’t lied to Lexa earlier; she truly wanted nothing else but for her people to be safe.

Lexa.

Clarke pushed the surge of emotions that came forward at the thought of the other girl to the back of her mind. Lexa’s abandonment had been the ultimate betrayal, but the worst part was that Clarke understood why Lexa had done it. Just like Lexa had said earlier – she had done what Clarke would have done if she were in the same situation.

Despite the truth of the matter, Clarke couldn’t let the betrayal tear her apart. Not now. Especially not now. Not when so much was resting on her shoulders.

So lost in her thoughts and in her desperation, Clarke barely registered the click of the safety being released before she felt the cool metal of a gun against her temple.

“Do. Not. Move.”

Clarke gulped and a bead of sweat rolled down her back. She reached for her gun, but the guard knocked it out of her hands before she could grab it.

“I told you not to move,” he grunted as he wrestled her arms behind her back and put her wrists in cuffs.

Shit, Clarke thought as she was roughly shoved forward, the guard gripping tightly to her with one hand. With the other he talked into his radio. “I found another one. She looks like she snuck in.”

“Good,” a muffled voice came through. “Bring her down.”

Clarke wanted to struggle, but she knew that it would be futile. Her hands were bound, and the guard had the upper hand with his gun. Trying to run would only end up with him being more rough, or her with a bullet through her head. 

So instead of struggling and trying to make an escape, Clarke stayed quiet and listened. From what she could hear from the radio back in its place on the guard’s hip, some of her people were still free and the mountain men certainly weren’t happy about it.

A small grin spread across her face. She wouldn’t be surprised if one of the few who was still free was Jasper or Monty. They were both clever and knew how to handle themselves. And maybe – just maybe – Bellamy was with them. There was still the possibility that he was dead, ever since the acid fog went down they had lost all contact with him. It was something Clarke really did not want to think about. 

Yet knowing that at least a few of her people were still relatively safe ignited a small spark of hope in Clarke. Maybe if she was being taken to Cage, she could make a deal. She was more than willing to sacrifice herself for the safety of everyone else. Or if that didn’t work, she could at least cause a distraction to give everyone else more time.

All Clarke knew was that she had to do something, and at this point she was desperate enough to do just about anything.   
The descent to the fifth floor was quick. The guard wasn’t wasting any time, probably because he didn’t want to be stuck anywhere else when the radiation began to seep throughout the mountain.

Suddenly there was a burst of static. “I need you in the control room now. Bring the prisoner.”

“Yes sir,” the guard answered, before pushing Clarke into a fast jog.

She couldn’t believe her luck. Obviously being captured wasn’t ideal, but she was being directly to where she wanted to be. The control room was the best place for her to go to try to get her way.

After about five minutes they were in front of the control room door. The guard waved his card and pushed the door open, leaving Clarke face to face with just the man she wanted to see. Cage Wallace.

His mouth dropped open and he turned to face the guard. “Johnson, why did you fail to tell me that the prisoner you found was Clarke?”

“I – I didn’t know,” he stuttered as he stared at Clarke, realization settling into his features. Clarke just glared.

“That would have been critical information to help deal with the situation we’re in right now,” Cage stormed. “The intruder is still running loose with multiple other prisoners, and a grounder has found her way in and is slicing through our people.”

Clarke snapped to attention at the mention of the intruder. Could it be Bellamy? She didn’t want to be too hopeful, but if it was him . . . Clarke didn’t let her thoughts go in that direction. 

The tension between the two men was quickly rising, and sweat began to bead on the guard’s forehead.

Before the guard could say anything more Cage made eye contact with another and flicked his fingers. A shot rang out and the guard who had caught Clarke dropped to the ground, a hole in the middle of his forehead. 

Two other guards immediately flanked her and Cage nodded at them. “Clarke.”

“Cage,” Clarke said coldly. “We should talk.”

He crossed his arms. “Don’t act like you have any leverage here. We’ve won.”

“Not with my people still free and yours stuck on this level.”

“That won’t be a problem much longer,” Cage smirked before he began speaking into the mic he had attached to his ear, his voice ringing throughout the halls. “To the criminals running through our halls, I have a message for you. We have your leader, Clarke. If you don’t come to the control room in five minutes, she will no longer be alive.”

“They won’t fall for it,” Clarke argued. “They know better than to walk into a trap like this.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure, Clarke,” he waved to the guards who had ahold of her. “Take her to the back of the room.”

This time, Clarke did struggle against the guards. “They won’t stop fighting,” she spat out. 

“They’re outnumbered.”

“We’ve been outnumbered from the beginning, it hasn’t stopped us yet.”

Clarke and Cage glared at each other until Clarke was roughly pushed to the ground, slamming her shoulder into the floor, and Cage turned to shout out orders.

Clarke wanted to do something, anything, but with her hands bound and two guns trained on her, her options were limited to say in the least. So, once again, she listened.

From the voices filtering through the radios, she gathered that almost all of the population was evacuated to the fifth floor. At this point there were just guards doing a final sweep before heading down themselves. They weren’t incredibly concerned about the intruders and the few stragglers left over who were helping the forty-four. All of the guards were going to be on the fifth floor, for the few outsiders left free to try and to get there and to the rest of the remaining forty-four would be a suicide mission.

As the minutes passed, Clarke’s stomach dropped. The reasonable part of her knew not much good would come of someone coming to help her, they’d probably end up with a bullet in their head and Clarke would still end up dead, too. Yet the other part of her wanted someone to come save her, she didn’t want to die, and she didn’t want her people to be left in the mountain being tortured and drained for their bone marrow. It wasn’t right, and it wasn’t fair. 

At the four-minute mark, Cage began pacing. It wasn’t until there was the sound of heavy and quick footsteps outside the door that he stopped. Clarke, Cage and the two guards all held their breath.

The voices on the other side of the door were muffled, and the door pushed open. Cage nodded at the guard who stepped aside and someone walked in.

It was Bellamy, dressed in a guard uniform looking worn and battered. His hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat and his eyes scanned the room restlessly until they landed on Clarke. As soon as he saw her, and the guards pointing guns at her head, he tried to rush to her.

Changing their attention from Clarke to Bellamy, the guards quickly took hold of Bellamy and wrenched the gun out of his hands. Clarke struggled to stand up with her bound hands, and Bellamy struggled to get loose. The guards looked to Cage, and he held his hand out to take a gun. 

“Here’s what is going to happen,” he said quietly before grabbing Clarke and placing the gun against her temple. “The guards are going to let you go, then leave. You make one move I don’t like and a bullet goes through Clarke’s head.”

Bellamy looked desperately between Clarke and Cage. He was obviously debating what to do. “Clarke . . .”

“Do what he says, Bellamy,” Clarke breathed out, trying to reassure him with her tone.

“I’d listen to her,” Cage said.

“Okay,” Bellamy nodded, looking resigned.

Cage gave the signal and the two guards slowly let go of Bellamy and left the room.

Clarke knew Bellamy was struggling internally to not move. The twitching muscles in his jaw and his tight fists were giving away how truly tense he was. It was a miracle he hadn’t exploded yet. And despite the situation, Clarke couldn’t help but to take him in with her eyes. It was in her nature to look him over to check for any injuries, but the only problem that she could see was his apparent exhaustion.

Bellamy seemed to be scanning over Clarke as well, worry across his features. God, how long had it been since they’d seen each other? Too long. Too much had happened and they each didn’t know even half of what the other had had to go through.

“What do you want, Cage?”

“I want you to surrender,” he answered. “And all of your people to stand down. Half of you can go, and half of you will stay for the bone marrow. Or, your princess here dies.”

“No!” Clarke struggled against him but he only pushed the gun against her temple roughly.

“That’s a lot to ask for,” Bellamy said gruffly. 

“Those are the terms, take them or leave them.”

Bellamy actually looked like he was going to take the offer, and Clarke glared. “Don’t do it, Bellamy. Get them all out. That’s what’s important.”

“Clarke . . .”

“Bellamy.”

They stared at each other, facing each other down. It was a silent and pointless battle, they were both too strongly willed to give in.

Suddenly, Bellamy’s eyes shifted from Clarke’s to the gun. Clarke didn’t pick up on his message, until he did it again.

It dawned on her again, and as soon as she realized what he was trying to communicate to her she drove her elbows into Cage’s stomach as roughly as she could.

He gasped and his gripped loosened enough that she could knock the gun from his hand. Bellamy lunged for it and was aiming at Cage when suddenly there was the feeling of cool metal on Clarke’s throat.

“Do it,” Cage grunted. “I dare you.”

Both Clarke and Bellamy were frozen in spot. Clarke couldn’t even swallow without the blade of the knife cutting into her skin. They were so close, so damn close.

Bellamy was breathing heavily and sweat was trailing along his face. But his aim was still true, and his hands didn’t shake at all.

“I’m not going to let you surrender,” Clarke said, a plan suddenly blooming in her head.

“I’m not going to let you die.”

Clarke stared at Bellamy and tried to convey that she needed him to pay attention. Slowly, she raised her hands and drew an x with her fingers on her left shoulder. Bellamy’s eyebrows furrowed and Clarke did the action again, widening her eyes at him.

“You have ten seconds to make a decision,” Cage said angrily. “I’m not playing anymore games.”

Clarke couldn’t control her breathing as Cage pressed the blade harder against her neck. Her eyes closed, and she could only hope Bellamy understood what she had meant. When she had been in the similar situation with Lincoln, she had done what she thought Bellamy would have done. And if she knew anything about Bellamy Blake, it was that he would be willing to do anything to get his way.

When Clarke opened her eyes, Bellamy was lowering the gun with a dejected look on his face. Her stomach fell. He didn’t understand what she was trying to say. Cage’s grip loosened on Clarke and Bellamy sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Before Clarke could take a breath, a loud shot rung out and Cage dropped to the ground. There was a burning in Clarke’s shoulder and she fell to her knees.

Pressing her hand to her shoulder, she saw that it was covered in blood. Under any other circumstances this would have not been ideal, but a smile spread across her face. She was just glancing up when Bellamy rushed over, kneeling down in front of her.

“Clarke, oh my God, Clarke,” he gasped while grasping her face in his hands. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Clarke laughed. Before she knew what she was doing she pulled Bellamy into a tight hug, ignoring the searing pain in her arm. “You knew what I was trying to tell you.”

“Of course I did,” Bellamy answered, burying his nose into her hair.

Clarke gripped onto him tightly and whispered, “I thought you were actually going to take his deal.”

“Not a chance, Princess.” 

Clarke laughed and relished in the contact for a few more moments before pulling away. They both stood up and Bellamy picked up the gun that he had dropped after shooting Cage. “Let’s go get our people and get the hell out of this damn mountain.”


End file.
